


Jubilee

by prettygirllostt



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Afterlife, Death, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 11:24:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/661436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettygirllostt/pseuds/prettygirllostt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock dies and he waits for John before he moves on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jubilee

For three years he fought to find his way back to John and in the end, he couldn’t do it. A knife did him in. Something so simple and it took everything from him. It wasn’t Moran. It wasn’t anyone of importance. It was a mugger. So simple and it ended his life. 

He sat at his own grave because he had nowhere else to be. Everyone knew now. Everyone. He’d lied. He’d hunted down a vicious crime ring and on his way back to 221B, a mugger stabbed him for his money. It was ridiculous. Sherlock Holmes, the great consulting detective, killed by a lowlife drunk who wanted money for drugs. 

He watched his own body be lowered into the ground. Watched John cry again. If his heart was still beating it would have broken. As it was, he needed to turn away. No one could see him. Why would they? No one was looking. As always, they didn’t observe. When the skies opened he half wished he could feel the rain.

John came back every week. Sometimes he said nothing. Sometimes he spewed angry threats. And sometimes, he cried. Sherlock found the crying to be the worst. John never had flowers like Mrs. Hudson. He didn’t stand and stare like Mycroft. He didn’t sob uncontrollably like Molly. He did what John Watson always did; he stood by. 

Sherlock had grown bored in the year he’d been waiting. He wasn’t kidding himself. He knew who he was waiting for. He also wasn’t surprised when John came by with a woman one day. It hurt, but not any less than watching John be alone. Despite everything, Sherlock wasn’t selfish when it came to John. John deserved happiness. He listened to John tell him of his life. Of Mary. When the 4th year came and John was married and expecting a child, Sherlock assumed he’d see less of him. That wasn’t the case. 

John came at night. He didn’t need lights to know where he was going. He sat in front of Sherlock’s grave, the place his best friend lay, and he told him because it was the only thing he could do. Mary didn’t come anymore. She said she could hear the dead whispering. John shrugged that off but he hoped Sherlock was listening.  
“And we’re having our second daughter. Don’t know what I’m going to do with another girl,” he said.  
Sherlock smiled. He wished John could see him. Being gone but not had its advantages. He touched John’s hair and wished him well.  
“Oh, I think you’ll be quite good at it. Just like the first one,” he answered.  
John didn’t hear him. He never did. But he smiled. It wasn’t the same smile Sherlock remembered. It was heavier. It made Sherlock sad but there was nothing he could do. He answered all of John’s questions even though John would never hear. 

Years went by. So many years. Sherlock waited. John still came by, though less and less. He came on both anniversaries. The fake death and the real one. He came with his newborns, then when they were grown. He had gotten old. Sherlock felt the familiar ache of wanting. He missed John and he told him so every time he left Sherlock’s grave. 

When Mrs. Hudson died John returned. Sherlock felt a mild pain that she hadn't come to see him herself after her death, but her life had been so full without him he doubted that she had any need to visit the past. Instead he watched John stand at his grave, once more with his cane.

“Mrs. Hudson is gone. You’re gone. I think it’s nearly time for me,” John said. 

He had wrinkles and gray hair. Sherlock touched them, trailing his still young fingers along the lines. “Come meet me, my friend,” he said.

John smiled one of his heavy smiles. “I do believe I’ll be with you soon. My girls are grown. One is married. Mary…well that didn’t work out like I’d planned but life never does, does it?”

Sherlock put his head on John’s and leaned forward. John didn’t stumble. He didn’t feel it. But Sherlock believed John never stumbled and he wouldn’t have even if he could feel it. Sherlock snuck his arm around John’s waist. 

“I miss you, Sherlock,” John said quietly.

Sherlock smiled. When John left, he knew he didn’t have long to wait.

He met Mary when she died. She came to find him. She was beautiful then, like she had been when she was young. She smiled at him almost bitterly.

“I always knew you were here. Watching him,” she said.

“Yes,” he said because there was no other reply to give. 

“You’re still waiting, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

She kissed his cheek. “Good. He loves you. He’ll always love you. He loved us as much as he could and I will never say he didn’t love our girls enough, but he never did love me like he loved you. I’m not even sure he knew it, but it’s true. You’re waiting for him but he was always waiting for you.”

She stepped away and he didn’t watch her go. He’d seen too many of them go. He knew what was waiting. He was only waiting for John.

“He’ll come soon, Sherlock. You’ll be together. Just make him happy,” Mary called. 

For the first time since his death, Sherlock cried. 

He was surprised when John died. Not by the fact that he would finally see John again, but by the fact that John was buried next to him. He hadn’t expected that. Mycroft planned it. Sherlock wasn’t surprised Mycroft had outlived them all. He watched Mycroft say goodbye to them both and was surprised when Mycroft said, “Be happy together now,” before he turned away. Sherlock knew he’d never see his brother again.

It took days. Sherlock was scared. Days of being alone when he had no need to be alone. But he waited. He was rewarded.

“Sherlock?”

John’s voice. As he remembered it. It called out to him in tremulous recognition. Sherlock turned. John. His John in his hideous jumper with his military hair cut watching him. He grinned.

“John.”

“You…you waited or me?” John asked. He moved closer.

“Yes.”

“All these years.”

“Yes.”

John was close. So close. He smiled. “You’re an idiot.” 

Sherlock leaned on his grave. “So I’ve been told, though it’s been quite some time.”

“I’d say it has.”

John was smiling. Sherlock was smiling back. The world was right. All the years didn’t matter. All the time they’d missed. 

“We have forever now, don’t we?” John asked. 

“Yes,” Sherlock laughed. 

John took his hand. 

“Well come on then. Could be dangerous,” he said.

After years of waiting and watching Sherlock had what he wanted. He tightened his grip on John’s hand. “Isn’t it exciting?”

John nodded and grinned and together they walked into their eternity.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a quick piece I based off of an idea I got while watching Being Human. I hope you enjoy it. I had no betas, so comments are appreciated.


End file.
